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The Hay Bale Just Missed Me – I Could Have Died

Picture this… The Sunday ride is happening. Three guys have “broken away” from the main pack and are hauling tail down Big Woods. (OK, really Max is pulling and I am sucking wheel and a Rich Jones is behind me)

But, regardless, the three of us are alone at about 26 mph. Coming towards us is an amateurish flat bed pick up truck stacked with about 40 hay bales.

When….yeah, you guessed it, a bale drops off and tumbles right toward us. It couldn’t have missed me by more than a foot, but it grazes Rich.

My life flashed before my eyes. (It was more of a comedy than a tragedy) Truthfully, I was certain that we had all bought it. One false twist of fate or a millisecond difference in timing and we would have all been toast.

The amateur farmers who stacked this truck stopped behind us and picked up the remnants, while we collected ourselves a bit up the road. I am serious, this was friggin’ close to a disaster.

I wish I could tell you that I had some cerebral moment of clarity, found the meaning of life, or experienced singularity with karma. The hay bail just missed me and my buddies – I could have died, but I didn’t. I didn’t learn anything or feel anything special other than contempt for the buffoons who stacked the hay, so poorly, on that truck. This was yet another near miss while on my bike.